


Bazaar

by MissSarria



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:23:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSarria/pseuds/MissSarria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is finding London life tougher than she expected when a desk job catches her eye at a unique bar. </p>
<p>'Everyone here is so exotic.' She gasped.</p>
<p>Leaning in close to her ear, the voice purred 'Honey, thats Bazaar.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! This is my first fic in over 4 years so please be gentle! This chapter was really just to get me back into the swing of things so the next few will have more intriguing content. Enjoy!

Belle wasn’t lost. She knew she wasn’t lost. If only the damn internet connection on her phone would work! 

‘Stupid thing.’ she muttered under her breath. 

Stopping outside a Starbucks, she tried to tap into their wifi. 

‘Why? Why aren’t you working?!’ She looked up suddenly, realizing she was talking to herself in the middle of Covent Garden.

Heaving a big sigh, Belle found her location – without the directions – and hurried across the street down an alley. Leaving early was definitely a good decision. And she would not be late for this interview. 

Belle hadn’t worked in 5 weeks. And while that sounds like a lot, imagine that plus living in London. Money had gotten so tight the previous week that she had finally taken Ruby up on her offer to loan her the rent.

London wasn’t what Belle had anticipated it to be. It was loud, overly crowded, jostling with clueless tourists and expensive. Too expensive for her teachers assistant wage. Before that it had been too expensive for her waitress wage as well, even when she had good tips. Meeting Ruby there was the only good thing to have come from it. 

People don’t expect it, but when moving countries it isn’t being far away from your friends and family that makes you depressed. It’s locals lack of interest in new people. Maybe it’s just London, Belle doesn’t know. But the people here already have their friends from school and university. They don’t need any more. 

Enter Ruby. A teacher from America. In the exact same boat as Belle. Well, if the exact same boat means that Ruby is lost in the city center with only 15 minutes to find her way before she is officially late.

Her borrowed kitten heels are digging into her ankles as Belle walks on the cobblestoned roads. She wishes that she wasn’t in so much of a hurry so she could properly take it all in. The little street she’s walking down with the cute independent shops. But no time! 

Belle looks up ahead – half the footpath is closed on her side. There are two delivery guys almost blocking the way. She keeps walking down and squeezes past the two men, trying her best not to brush them and continues on.

Or tries to. One of them is walking next to her now. Saying something.

‘Pardon?’ Belle says, taking her headphones out and turning towards him.

‘I said you’re looking far too fine for lunch, sweetheart.’ He leered. The man was tall with greasy brown hair. He would have been attractive if he hadn’t been a pervert, Belle thinks. ‘How ‘bouts you stick around a little longer?’ He licked his lips and Belle almost gagged.

‘No, thank you.’ She said with an apologetic smile and turned quickly on her heel to keep moving.

A firm grip on her arm jolted Belle to a stop. 

‘C’mon now, sweet cheeks!’ He pushed in closer to her, brushing against her shoulder. Belle could feel his breath on her neck. ‘Just one drink!’

‘What are you doing?!’ She gasped. In her head, Belle was panicking. What the fuck was happening right now. It was bloody twelve o’clock in the afternoon. The sun is out. And this man is getting closer and closer to her neck. She shouldn’t have agreed to wear the heels Ruby suggested. Or the coat. ‘Let go of me, right now.’ 

The man cackled and pulled her against him, an arm going around her waist. Belles eyes were forward. A group of suits caught her eye. They paused. Before crossing the street. Avoiding her. Avoiding confronting this disgusting delivery man. She cast her eyes downwards. 

‘Let the lady go.’ A deep brogue demanded. A cane followed by polished black shoes came into view directly after it. Belle’s head shot up. Her savior was an older man dressed in an impeccable 3-piece suit. At least in his 40’s, a malicious grin on his face, a gold tooth glinting in his sneer. His brown hair flowed to his shoulders, a lick of salt and pepper staining his temples. A distinguished older man. 

A distinguished older man who looked incredibly angry.

‘Move on, man. Just me and me girlfriend having a few words.’ The delivery man spat at her saviors feet. Belle struggled against the hand holding her captive and practically jumped away from him. And accidently into the arms of her savior.

He was knocked back a few steps with surprise but held her gently against his chest as she gained her balance.

‘Sorry.’ She whispered, looking up at his startled expression. ‘And thank you.’ Belle stumbled out of the odd embrace and quickly turned the corner.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She’s going to be late! She checked her phone again, watching the little blue dot of her gps move slowly towards the target. Oh! She was only two streets away. She could make it.

Three minutes later saw Belle stood outside luscious black doors, gazing hesitantly inside the ajar door. Glancing up she found an extremely small and modest sign. The sign she was looking for. Bazaar.

*******

After speaking to a kitchen assistant – thank god he’d been outside the kitchen – Belle stood, looking around the venue in awe. She could see how it would be at night, with music playing in the background, waiters carrying orders, the bartender behind the deep chestnut bar shaking cocktails. A long, high table caught her eye. Glancing up, she saw a few chains attached to ribbons, a hoop and some that she couldn’t make out, tucked neatly above it. The Cabaret stage.

‘Well well! You’re a bit over dressed!’ Two women came sauntering out from a hallway. Both dressed in casual attire. Not wearing heels. Damn it, Ruby! Belle quickly glanced down at herself, her black and white checked skirt worked well with the deep maroon tight sweater that accompanied it. The heels is what made it fancier. And maybe the hair. She had swirled it up into an elegant look reminiscent of the 50’s. That was Belle’s bad.

Belle laughed, she was at ease already with these women. ‘I thought it would make a better impression to over dress, rather than under dress.’ They smiled and led her to a nearby table.

‘So, tell us about yourself!’

*****

The interview wasn’t bad. In fact, it was good. The two women, Mal and Rella had barely talked about the position, no more than someone would in passing about a job they might know about. Belle giggled to herself on the tube as she thought of the odd conversation she had just had. Gym membership, her lack of boyfriend and marriage to stay in the country had all come up within a fifteen minute friendly conversation. Belle had learned something, even if she didn’t get the job. Bazaar had started 6 years ago, the same year 8 other cabaret bars, Bazaar being the only one left. Mal was incredibly proud of it. She had been there for all of the six years as general manager. It was owned by a father and son team

And that conversation wouldn’t have taken place without her knight in a dashing black suit. Belle hadn’t allowed herself to think of what had happened before she’d reached Bazaar. She needed that job, and needed to be focused for the interview. Now that it was over she realised what happened. What could have happened if that man hadn’t been there. She shuddered and drew her coat closer to her, in vain. The coat wasn’t made for her body type. And Belle sighed as she gave up trying. Ruby had bought it for her. She remembered when Ruby had first shown it to her.

Her housemate had appeared in her doorway with the ankle long brown coat with golden tinges. ‘I was walking down the street and saw your dear Mr. Darcy’ she said as she sauntered into the room, and flopped onto the bed. ‘He ran off when I tried to capture him for you, but I managed to grab his coat.’ She flung it over Belles lap. ‘You’re welcome.’ She’d laughed, her red lips wide in amusement.

As Belle’s station was announced, she stood and eventually exited the tube line. Making the quick walk home was easy. And as she entered the key for the blue door which held her home, she thought again of her savior. His sinister look at her attacker and the startled look he had given her at her thanks. Belle shook her head and headed into the comfort of her townhouse. She was thinking far too much into the kindness of a stranger. 

She took off her heels, leaving them with the rest of Ruby’s collection and started the stairs. Belle paused halfway up. But she couldn’t get that grin out of her head.

That glinting gold in his grin.


	2. Tellings of life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting a little longer already. Bit by bit, I'll have the chapters hopefully up to around 5000 words each at least. Have fun!

As a general rule, Belle didn’t dwell on anything other than character betrayal or deaths in books. It had only been 29 hours since her interview and she was antsy. In what seemed like a freak accident, her useless agency had found her work that day. A surprisingly wonderful class of year 2’s had been excited to have someone new to question incessantly. Sweet and enthralled by her accent as they had been, the measly 50 pounds she had made for the day wouldn’t cut it. Belle was essentially broke. And she wanted that position at Bazaar.

Another thing people don’t think of when moving to London, Belle thinks, is that it isn’t how the movies make it seem. Nothing is given freely to you in a cute, accidental way. Hugh Grant isn’t going to pop up out of nowhere to give you everything you desire. Belle knows this all to well, shuddering, but not against the brisk January wind outside the small primary school.  
Her phone buzzed against her hip and she reached for it in earnest. Could it be?! She glanced quickly at the screen before accepting. Her heart rate slowing down from the false alarm.

‘Hey girl,’ her housemate hollered, ‘how was your first day of school? Anyone steal your lunch money?’ 

Belle let out a small sigh and started the same peaceful walk she’d taken that morning to the tube. ‘Shut up you,’ she laughed. ‘It was wonderful.’

‘Mmm?’ Her friend probed.

‘Really! No child screamed for no reason.’ Belle paused, thinking. ‘No child screamed at all, actually.’

‘Ahh!’ Ruby sighed in contentment, ‘Heaven.’

‘Exactly.’ She turned a corner, ‘How were your lot? Exceptionally terrible? Are you bordering on the side of massacring a class of innocent teens for being nothing more than hormonal?’ she teased.

‘Not quite onto mass murder yet.’ Ruby paused and Belle heard papers rustling on the other end. ‘Does burning all marking count?’ she conspired.

Belle giggled, looking up and around in surprise at the strange out of place pastel coloured houses next to the old brick buildings. ‘Not quite. Despite your fantastic pay, I do not envy that job of yours. Being a TA is one thing. Yours is a whole ‘nothing ball game.’ Ruby grumbled her agreement just as Belle approached the dull grey tube gates. ‘About to go down, Rubes. See you at home.’  
She pocketed her oyster card and approached the escalator.

‘Down on who?’ Ruby’s cackle cut off by the lack of signal, leaving Belle grinning at her ridiculous friend.

******

Belle didn’t get a phone call from Bazaar until Saturday. In which time she had essentially accepted the rejection. Her agency had, however, miraculously pulled through for her and the rest of the week had been paying days.

The call had come just as she had been stretching, rather ungracefully, in bed. The Gibbs brothers shrieking More Than a Woman – thank you, Ruby – on her bedside table jolted her. Leaving her heart beating faster by the shock.  
She stared at the vibrating phone for a moment before scrambling for it.

‘Belle French speaking.’ She answered, sounding a tad breathless.

‘Belle! It’s Mal, from Bazaar.’ Belle shot up, back straight, her free hand reaching for something to grab onto and found purchase in her quilt.

‘Oh Mal!’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her hand clenched the quilt tighter to calm herself. ‘It’s wonderful to hear from you. I hope you had a lovely rest of the week?’ A smile carried in Belle’s voice. Butterflies in her stomach.

‘I did, thank you!’ There was a muffled voice in the background followed by Mal’s laugh, ‘Rella says hi!’ Belle returned the laugh and greeting. ‘Look Belle, I think it’s pretty obvious what this call is for. What say we give you a trial run?’

Belle sucked in a deep breath, letting it out easy. Her clenched fist slowly releasing the comforter. ‘That sounds brilliant, Mal.’ She laughed a little breathlessly, ‘you have no idea how thrilled I am.’ Her heart was still beating fast and she covered it with a hand, as if that would settle it down.

‘Good! We like enthusiasm.’ Belle felt a smile flutter briefly on her lips. Mal’s voice lowered slightly, ‘But don’t think it’s a walk in the park. We have fun, but we work hard.’

Belle nodded to an empty room.

‘I understand, Mal.’ She paused, ‘I just have one question.’

‘Shoot.’

A grin spread over her face, her eyes bright. ‘When can I start?’

 

Ruby was essentially bouncing from the news. Looking slightly ridiculous, yet adorable, in her oversized t-shirt and leg warmers. And by essentially, Belle meant she really was bouncing. Laughing, Belle placed her hands firmly on her giddy housemates shoulders, stopping the movement and smiling at the enthusiasm. 

‘It’s only a trial week, Rubes.’

Ruby quickly shook off Belle’s heavy hands, moving to the kettle. ‘Oh, shut up, French.’ She flicked the switch. ‘Have you ever had a trial where they then haven’t given you the job?’ She asked, leaning her graceful form against their fake granite counter.

Belle thought for a moment, ‘…Well, no…’ she said, drawing out the o far longer than necessary. She started a slow pace around the small kitchen. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s a completely new role to me and mayb-‘

‘Maybe nothing.’ Ruby cut in, moving around her pacing house mate for coffee mugs. ‘You’re wonderful,’ her voice slightly muffled as she leant into the cupboard, ‘and anyone who meets you knows it.’ She shrugged, standing triumphantly, three mugs in hand. ‘They’d be crazy not to keep you.’ Ruby set her mugs down, pouring hot water into the prepped cafetiere. 

Belle sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table. ‘Rubes as sweet as the sentiment is, you don’t know that. And you’re a bit biased.’

Ruby turned abruptly to face her. 

‘What?’ She asked aghast. ‘With your ridiculousness of being so early to every job you end up getting given a key, purely so you don’t stand outside all by yourself, showing everyone else up?’ Sarcasm dripped heavily from her words, a delicate eyebrow raised.

Belle fought the giggle and eye roll wanting to surface. ‘Wanting to be punctual isn’t a crime.’ She defended.

‘Ah, but beating the boss everyday may just be.’ Ruby winked. ‘But it doesn’t matter, my good woman!’ Her accent becoming ridiculous as she proclaimed, ‘for you, my dear sweet Belle, have a paid week of trial in your future!’ She brandished the kettle almost as if it were a sword- thrusting it in the air for effect. 

Belle grinned, watching while Ruby poured the now brewed coffee into each cup, As she started on the third Belle asked, ‘Speaking of dear and sweet, how’s Archie?’

A dreamy look passed over her friends face. Ruby had been incredibly lucky with a certain dating app that Belle is sure needs no introduction. Tinder, a program based almost entirely on looks. Ruby, being the glorious could-be-model-if-she-wanted-to woman that she was, had a lot of matches with it. The amount of six pack, six foot tall narcissists who had asked her, within the first few opening sentences of conversation, is she was ‘down to fuck’ had been embarrassing on the behalf of British men everywhere.

Her first and only date to come from it, however, had been with a funny, shy, child psychiatrist named Archie. Ruby had been dreadfully ill when they’d first matched, forcing her to postpone the date for two weeks. While she had been sick, Archie had asked her constantly how she was feeling, what she was eating, telling her to get rest. He’d been incredibly caring and they’d yet to even meet. 

When Ruby had finally been well enough for the date, they had hit it off, and were now practically inseparable. They were sweet together, and Belle was happy for them.

Well… 90% happy, 10% jealous.

Belle, herself, hadn’t been nearly as successful. She had been on a maximum of two dates, forgetting how many guys there had been. Every dating sequence ending because the boys she dated – boys, not men, men didn’t treat women like this – expected a little ‘something something’ if they bought her a drink. After the last one had tried to get his hand down the back of her trousers after two drinks, she had decided to give it a rest. That had been 5 weeks ago. 

Maybe 85% happy, 15% jealous.

Ruby jolted her out of her thoughts by placing a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. Sitting down to Belle’s right. ‘He’s good.’ She smiled, the same dreamy look on her face, ‘Been tired all week though. Poor thing. But he’ll be fine after a lie in.’

Belle nodded, sipping the steaming drink slowly. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Rubes.’

Her housemate grinned at her, bouncing a bit again in her chair. ‘You’re welcome.’ She had a taste of her own, before jumping up quite suddenly. ‘Speaking of coffee…’ She grabbed Archie’s mug in her other hand and headed off down the hall to her room.

Belle smiled into her own cup. Today was looking like a good day. And it wasn’t even 10 o’clock.

 

After a forced gym session, Belle and Ruby headed out for groceries. In the cereal aisle, Ruby brought something up.

‘No, Ruby. I can’t let you.’

Ruby drooped with the shopping basket in hand, looking pretty ridiculous, her knees dropping in to touch each while her feet stood shoulder width apart. She threw her head back in indignation, letting out an almost growl.

‘Belle! Please!’ She huffed, moving to grab a pack of muesli. ‘I'm never going to use it and you need both the mone-‘ Belle turned swiftly around to walk into a new aisle. Ruby’s hand caught hers. ‘And you’ll need corporate attire for the week anyway!’ She persisted.

Belle sighed heavily, ‘Ruby, I appreciate the offer, I do! But I can’t keep taking money from you!’

Ruby set the basket down and grabbed both of her hands. ‘If I was in trouble, you’d help me. Wouldn’t you.’

Belle squirmed uncomfortably. She would. She’d do anything she could to help. And Ruby knew it. Ruby also knew that Belle knew it. And could see her caving.

‘But I’ve already borrowed so much for rent…’ She trailed off.

‘And if you want to, you can pay me back whenever. If you don’t have the money to pay me back, it’s fine.’ Belle shook her head aggressively. ‘No! Belle. Seriously. It’s fine.’ 

Belle huffed in resignation.

And Ruby grinned. ‘Good! It’s settled. Tomorrow, we’re going shopping.’

****

While Belle hated the idea of money being spent on her, especially when she didn’t have any to pay it back. She knew that her housemate lived paycheck to paycheck just like she did. Ruby defining exception though. A sizeable lump sum left by her father.

Ruby had been an accident. Her mother had been a wild child, her father a lawyer. When her mother had told him she was pregnant, he left them both. When Ruby was born, her father – Ruby had never known his name, and didn’t want to – had visited the hospital. Given her mother thirty thousand dollars and told her never to contact him again.

Obviously, Ruby has never met the man. And she has a strict rule of not using the money on herself. When Ruby said Belle didn’t have to pay her back, Belle knew she meant it. Paying her back would mean that she wasn’t rid of the pay off her birth father had thrown at her. She’d given some to charity, of course. But she’d kept some for instances like these.

Belle couldn’t be more grateful of her generous friend.

She thought that far too many times that Sunday as Ruby pulled her around Harrods. Looking at items Ruby passed her, then quickly putting them down at a glance of the price. 

‘Rubes, I know you don’t care about how much things cost,’ she started, playing with the hem of the shirt Ruby was currently perusing. ‘But I do. I’d feel much more comfortable in H&M.’

H&M also wouldn’t make her feel obliged to dress up. Dress up to go shopping. A ridiculous notion to Belle. Of course, Belle liked looking nice. Preferred it, obviously. But she felt like she was attending the theatre in the getup Ruby had picked for her. An above the knee, deep red sweater dress that hugged her curves, the turtleneck keeping her warm. With the same brown jacket she had worn to the interview over top. The red heels were her own this time, thank god, her feet hadn’t quite recovered from her impromptu walk to the interview.

Ruby slapped her shoulder teasingly, ‘Oh come now, French. Just live a little, would you? We’ll just get a few staple pieces here to show off that hot bod you have and then head home.’ That was apparently a dismissal and Ruby quickly moved to another rack. 

Belle watched her friend move around the store, so sure of her surroundings, before seeing her stop in front of a mannequin.

‘Oh Belle!’ she sang across the store. Belle flushed, putting her head down and walking over briskly to her friend, ignoring the stares she received from Harrods staff. 

Belle looked at the ensemble in concealed interest. A deep blue and red plaid yoke shirt, no sleeves, with a high ruffled collar looked at her. The high waist pink skirt was sweet and in style, accenting the unusual shirt even more. It was Belle’s look. And she loved it.

Ruby glanced at her friend. At the expression on her face, she grabbed her arm and pulled her to where the items hung. ‘Yep.’ She said triumphantly. ‘You’re getting that.’

In the end, Ruby had chosen 3 skirts, two shirts and a dress for her friend. And they walked with the two Harrods bags between them towards Hyde Park. The sun had unexpectedly won against the clouds today, and they wanted to take advantage of it. Being as cold as it was, didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the suns rays for just a little bit.

Talking about nothing in particular, they turned the multiple corners, seeing Hyde Park up ahead. Belle noted the particularly fancy looking hotels on her right. Men dressed up in coattails and top hats parking cars for their presumably very wealthy clients. She was so caught up in watching the doorman tip his hat to someone leaving that she walked right into something warm and hard. With a quick squeak, she grabbed onto it as she, lost her balance, falling forward onto the poor sod.

It was a man, she realized as her hands gripped his forearms. God, her balance was not having the best of weeks. She looked up quickly to apologise profusely but when she tried to speak, her mouth was left agape. 

Brown eyes greeted her. A shocked look on his face. That gold tooth glinting again in the rare London sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing about Ruby, I don't know why! She's just so sassy.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me a shout in the comments if you liked or didn't like something. I'll be taking prompts for this very shortly so feel free to leave something now. :)


End file.
